The Return Of Mysterion
by Caz Dowse
Summary: I couldn't just stand by and watch South Park sliding back into the gutter." Mysterion's back, and The Coon ain't happy. Is South Park big enough for both of them?


**The Return of Mysterion**

**Just a oneshot until I can think of another story! I love The Coon, its becoming one of my favourite episodes. ****It's got everything – the plot, the gags and Professor Chaos (who sadly, doesn't appear here). This is just a little tribute really. Anyway, enjoy!**

South Park, Colorado. The biggest crime ridden cesspool in California. That's not how most people would choose to describe the small mountain town, but then most people weren't there after dark. Most people didn't see what he saw.

He, the lone vigilante.

The only exterminator in this rat ridden sewer of crime.

_The Coon._

The Coon stood atop the tallest building in South Park, scanning the town for any sign of a disturbance, but there was nothing. Business was slow tonight. The fat boy in the obviously homemade raccoon costume sighed deeply. Business had been a lot slower than usual lately. Every time he got to the scene of a crime either the perpetrators had already been caught or the cops had turned up just as he had arrived. Something was going on here, and it infuriated him.

How was he supposed to become the symbol, the one beacon of hope in South Park's darkness, if crimes were being thwarted before he got there?

He clenched his fists angrily. He was determined to find out what was going on, even if he had to stay on the roof all night. He didn't even care if he was late for school. Someone was going to get their ass kicked before the night was out, even if it was only Kyle. He smiled at the thought. He hadn't kicked Kyle's Jew ass for a while.

The Coon was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice a dark, hooded figure land gently beside him.

"Hello Coon."

He whirled and grabbed onto the ledge, the rasping voice catching him off-guard. He stared at the other boy, a strange vision dressed all in black with a pair of fetching white underpants over his trousers.

"M-Mysterion?!" he spluttered.

A shadow of a smile appeared on the newcomer's face at The Coon's obvious discomfort.

"It's been a long time, Coon," Mysterion said.

The Coon stared at him, agape.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked when he had recovered his nerve.

"I realise that I'm taking a big risk," Mysterion said, gazing out over the town. "But I couldn't just stand by and watch South Park sliding back into the gutter."

"Dude, seriously – what the fuck are you doing here?" The Coon repeated slowly.

"I've come to…ask for your help," Mysterion said through gritted teeth.

The Coon's dark eyebrows shot up. "My help?"

"Yes," Mysterion said. He took a deep breath before continuing, clearly hating every word: "I can't control the rising tide of crime on my own. I thought I could, but the last few nights have shown me otherwise. Last night I nearly got taken out by a bunch of sixth graders, and the night before that some joyriders almost got away from me." He paused and looked at The Coon. "I've realised that I can't do this alone, I've been out of the game too long. But, if we work together, we can clean up this town. What do you say?" He held out his hand.

"No fucking way! I'm not working with you!" The Coon shouted, swatting his hand away angrily.

"But the town needs us!" Mysterion argued back.

"No, the town needs me!" The Coon replied furiously. "I'm the fucking symbol! You're just a copycatting dickhole!"

Mysterion bit down hard on his lower lip. "If you don't want to help me, then fine. I'll continue the fight on my own."

The Coon shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus Christ! I knew someone was pissing on my patch, but I didn't think it was you! The cops only let you out because you promised never to become a vigilante again!"

"Like I said, I couldn't just stand by and watch South Park sli – "

"Sliding back into the gutter, right!" The Coon mimicked sarcastically. "Come on dude, do you really think I'm that stupid? I know why you're doing this! You don't care about the town; you're only doing this to piss me off, aren't you! Hey, are you listening to me? Look at me when I'm about to kick your ass!"

Mysterion ignored him and walked toward the ledge, his eyes fixed on something below.

The Coon joined him and squinted into the darkness. "What is it?"

"There, about two blocks from here," Mysterion replied, pointing. "Those ram raiders are back. It looks like they're going to hit that electrical shop on 3rd Street."

Mysterion ran towards a fire escape ladder, but The Coon blocked his path.

"You're not going anywhere!" he said threateningly. "If anyone's going after those criminal bastards, it's going to be me!"

Mysterion pulled himself up to his full height of 4"1". "Oh yeah? Are how are you going to stop me?"

"I'll…I'll tell on you!"

Mysterion shook his head disdainfully. "I don't have time for this!"

He pushed The Coon out of the way, causing him to stagger backwards, and continued his run to the ladder.

"Hey, tell you what, I'll rowshambow you for it!" The Coon shouted after him. "Get back here, goddamit!"

He ran to the ladder. Mysterion was already halfway down and still moving quickly. The Coon jumped onto the ladder and slid down the rails, gathering speed as he went. When he reached the bottom, he jumped the short distance to the ground, landing in a commando roll. When he looked up, he saw Mysterion sprinting up the street, a dark shape flitting between the street lights.

The Coon swore and ran after him. He puffed and panted as he tried to keep pace with the fleet footed Mysterion. How the hell did the guy move so fast? He never moved that well in gym class. The Coon thought about his Coon Trike – nobody had ever gotten away from him when he was riding that. If only he could remember where he'd left the damn thing.

All of a sudden, Mysterion ducked down an alleyway. The Coon, taken by surprise at this change of tactics, sped up, and then slowed to a jog. His Coon senses were going haywire – something wasn't right here. By turning down the alley, Mysterion was running _away _from 3rd Street. Why would the so-called hero do that, unless this was some kind of trap?

The Coon slowed to a walk as he reached the alley. His mouth was dry, and his heart hammered against his ribcage. He walked slowly down the alley, treating every shadow with suspicion, but there was no sign of Mysterion. The Coon reached the end of the alley and stood, bemused. There was a fence in front of him that was at least six feet tall: no way could Mysterion have climbed over that without being seen. He turned and walked back towards the entrance, deep in thought. Maybe Mysterion had realised there was no way he win in a fight to the death – or at least, unconsciousness - with The Coon. Maybe he had shown his true faggy colours and run off into the night while he still had the full use of his legs. The Coon smiled. _Maybe its 1-0 to me._

Just as he was savouring that thought, something heavy dropped onto his back. He yelled in alarm as a pair of strong arms went around his neck.

"Just a little tip, Coon: never allow yourself to get distracted!" Mysterion rasped in his ear.

The Coon howled and made a grab for his nemesis, but all he got was a handful of his own cloak. His frustration growing, he bucked and weaved, trying to throw Mysterion off, but he held on like a cowboy at a rodeo.

"Get… the fuck…off me!" The Coon growled between gasps for breath.

"Are you ready to give in yet?"

"No!"

"Fine. Just remember – you made me do this!"

Before The Coon had a chance to guess at what Mysterion meant, the vigilante showed him. He stuck two fingers deep inside The Coon's nostrils, almost dislodging his mask, and wrenched his head back until all The Coon could see was Mysterion's gloved hand and the dark, starry sky.

With his nasal passages blocked, he began gulping in air rapidly. Just as he did so, Mysterion kicked him hard in the stomach. The Coon opened his mouth to cry out but all that came out was a rush of air. Mysterion kicked him again, and again. Unable to breathe, The Coon sank to his knees. Mysterion removed his fingers from The Coon's nose and leapt clear, just before the fat boy collapsed in a red and black heap. Mysterion wiped his fingers carefully on The Coon's cloak and stood triumphantly over his defeated enemy.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you jeopardise everything I'm trying to work for," he said.

He moved his cloak and pulled some rope from around his belt. He pulled The Coon into a sitting position against a wall and tied his wrists and ankles together tightly.

"I'll be back to untie you later," he said. He turned and ran out of the alley.

"Hey! I gotta go to the bathroom!" The Coon shouted as Mysterion disappeared round the corner. "Not cool!"

He struggled against his bonds but it was useless – he was well and truly stuck. He sat back against the wall, cursing everything he could think of. As the hours crept past, he started to panic. What if Mysterion didn't come back? What if he was planning to leave him here forever? He choked back a sob. So this was how The Coon's tale was doomed to end: trussed up in a back alley.

To his relief, Mysterion returned just before sunrise. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he knelt next to his hostage.

"I told you I had to go to the bathroom," The Coon muttered mutinously.

"Are you going to tell anyone about my return?" Mysterion asked.

The Coon glared at him.

"Fine." He got up and started to walk away.

"Alright! I won't tell anyone!" The Coon called desperately after him.

Mysterion nodded, and then went back and knelt beside him again.

"You know, I've been thinking," he said, as he untied the rope. "Maybe this town could be big enough for both of us after all. Just stay out of my fucking way, okay?"

He tucked the rope back into his belt and took off without another word. The Coon flipped off his disappearing back, and then left the alley himself. After five minutes of searching, he found his Coon Trike and headed home, walking awkwardly because his soaking wet trousers had stuck to his thighs like glue. He parked his trike in the garage and walked into the house, slamming the front door so hard the house shook to its foundations.

He went upstairs and bumped into his mum on the landing. She greeted him with her usual enthusiasm; although he was glad she pretended not to notice his soggy trousers.

He went into his bedroom and took off his costume. As he pulled off each garment, he could feel his "other" personality slipping into place. By the time he'd removed the mask, his other self was back.

He glanced at the clock. He had a couple of hours before he had to be up for school, so he put on his pyjamas, set his alarm and crawled gratefully beneath the covers.

He fumed silently as he snuggled down. Mysterion would pay for what he had done. He'd see him at school, although it wouldn't be Mysterion, of course, but his other self. A smile crossed his face as he thought of all the twisted punishments he could inflict on Mysterion's alter ego. He drifted off to sleep with an almost crazy grin on his face.

The Coon may have lost the night, but Eric Cartman would win the day.

**Hope you enjoyed it, please review! By the way, I reckon Mysterion is either Kenny or Stan, but I'm probably way off – that's why I didn't speculate about his identity in the fic.**


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